


capital R Romantic

by grantairrible



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 00:31:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6930685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantairrible/pseuds/grantairrible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one in which an aromantic Jehan announces that they're only romantic with a capital 'R', and Enjolras takes that to mean that they're dating Grantaire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	capital R Romantic

**Author's Note:**

> This is an anecdote that's briefly mentioned in ever since you went away so it's technically set in the same universe, but the two fics have nothing else to do with each other, so you don't need to have read that to understand this one :)

Enjolras really hated summer. Mostly because he felt like he was about to melt into the floor at any moment, since the Musain’s backroom didn’t have any air conditioning, but also because of Grantaire.

More specifically, Grantaire’s arms.

He was wearing a singlet that showed off his body in a far too flattering way, and most people wouldn’t usually think of Grantaire as _attractive_ , but Enjolras wasn’t most people.

Enjolras traced the lovely line of Grantaire’s shoulders, up his neck, along the interesting ridge of his nose to- _shit_. He was looking up at Jehan, who was the only one standing, apparently making a speech of some sort. Guiltily, Enjolras started paying attention to what they were saying.

“...so, yes, only romantic with a capital R.”

Enjolras froze. Capital R. Grantaire. Jehan was dating _Grantaire?_

Grantaire, next to Jehan, raised his hand for a high-five, laughing out loud as their hands met.

It made sense, sort of - Jehan was always draping themselves over Grantaire, and they were often tucked into corners of the cafe chatting, and they were both always touching and affectionate and-

How had Enjolras missed this before? He was always noticing Grantaire, and he’d thought Grantaire was always noticing him back, but that was obviously untrue.

The rest of Les Amis were immediately chattering over one and another, all directed at Jehan. Grantaire, strangely left out considering that this centred around him too, took a drink from his beer, glancing at Enjolras.

Oh, of course. Enjolras was the only one not congratulating them. Plastering on a fake smile, he leant in further and mumbled something about how happy he was for them that went mostly unheard in the babble of voices.

And he was happy for them. Really. He was.

 

* * *

 

“I like him,” Enjolras complained one night, face smooshed into one of the couch cushions, “I really, really like him.”

“I know,” Combeferre said, turning the page in his book with one hand and patting Enjolras’ hair with the other. “You’ve spoken about him enough that it’s really not news.”

Enjolras groaned. “What should I do?”

“Ask him out?”

Enjolras knew that polyamory was an option, but he didn’t want to intrude on a relationship that was so new, not when the only reason he’d have for acting now would be jealousy. Besides, he wasn’t entirely certain that Grantaire actually liked him. He wasn’t sure he knew anything about Grantaire anymore.

 

* * *

 

It was weird, though. Despite being in a relationship, nothing really changed between Jehan and Grantaire.

Grantaire would sometimes let Jehan write poetry on his arms, and Grantaire would be the only one Jehan wanted to see on a bad day, and vice-versa. They would chat and hug and laugh together, but Grantaire did that with any other one of his friends. More so, in the case of Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta.

And Enjolras could understand that. He wouldn’t let a romantic relationship stop him from hanging out with his friends, either. It was just strange that they never seemed to leave or arrive together, and that nobody spoke of them as a couple the way they did with Marius and Cosette, or Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta, or Combeferre and Courfeyrac. (Or, to a lesser extent, Bahorel and Feuilly, but nobody really knew what was going on there, least of all Bahorel and Feuilly themselves.)

The strangest thing to remain constant was Grantaire looking at Enjolras in that way of his. Enjolras couldn’t breathe when Grantaire stared at him with those gorgeous eyes, brown and gold and green flashing in the sunlight, liquid pools of heat. He didn’t know what Grantaire wanted from him. (If he was being honest, he did. Those were bedroom eyes.)

 

* * *

 

“Is that a new tattoo?”

Grantaire grinned, pulling down the loose armhole of his singlet that already showed enough skin to make Enjolras turn pink. Black script flowed across one side of his ribs. “Yeah. Jehan wrote it. It’s very romantic, of course, we’re talking about Jehan here.”

Enjolras turned away from the conversation he’d been eavesdropping on, leaving Combeferre to compare his ink with Grantaire’s.

Every time Enjolras considered saying something to Grantaire, or even just returning that burning gaze, he would remember that Grantaire loved Jehan enough to permanently inscribe their words on his skin, and he would bite his tongue and turn away.

 

* * *

 

“Darling, your _hair!_ ” Grantaire launched himself across the room and into Jehan’s arms. “May I?”

Jehan nodded, and Grantaire ran a hand along their locs, dyed a deep green. “You approve?”

“Do I _approve?_ It looks wonderful, I love the colour. You’re one step closer to the dream life of a forest fae.”

Jehan laughed and pressed a kiss to Grantaire’s cheek. “You’re too kind.”

Enjolras, watching on, swallowed and definitely didn’t run a hand through his own hair. He didn’t miss Grantaire waxing lyrical about his flowing locks, or whatever bullshit he usually came up with. Definitely not.

 

* * *

 

Grantaire was sitting on one of the couches in the corner of the Musain, and Jehan’s head was in his lap, and Enjolras was _not jealous_.

“The meeting’s about to start, so if you’d like to stop messing around and come into the back room, it would be much appreciated.” Enjolras said, voice curt and clipped. He turned away so he wouldn’t have to feel his stomach twisting at the sight any longer.

“Who pissed in his coffee?” Grantaire muttered, and Enjolras was tempted to apologise, but he wasn’t sure he had it in him right then.

 

* * *

 

“Just go and talk to him.”

Enjolras frowned at Courfeyrac, who had sat down next to him at some indeterminable point while he’d been staring at Grantaire. “No.”

“You’re ridiculous. Just go and ask him if he wants to get a coffee with you, it doesn’t have to mean anything. If something comes of it, awesome. If not, at least you know.”

Enjolras couldn’t actually find a fault in that logic. Grantaire would be too nice to turn him down outright, so at the very least he’d be let down gently. It had been _weeks_ \- not many, but still week _s_ , multiple, and it had felt so much longer - since Grantaire and Jehan had started dating, surely that was enough time? It had to be enough; Enjolras didn’t have enough patience to wait longer. “I… okay.”

 

* * *

 

Which was how Enjolras found himself sitting down at Grantaire’s table, catching a flash of something that looked like it might have been a cartoonishly adorable dinosaur before Grantaire flipped his sketchbook closed.

“What can I do for you, O fearless leader?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Nothing, if you’re going to be like that.”

“Sorry,” Grantaire wrinkled his nose, and it was so cute that Enjolras wasn’t sure how he was going to get through this. “Habit. What can I do for you, Enjolras?”

“Coffee?” Enjolras blurted. Fuck. That wasn’t up to his usual standard of eloquence.

“I’m alright, thanks for the offer, but-”

“No,” Enjolras interrupted. “I, uh, I wondered if you’d like to go and get coffee. Now. With me.”

“Oh. _Oh.”_ Grantaire’s eyes widened. “Really? I mean, _yes_. Let’s go.” They both stood, and started making their way to the door.

“You don’t want to let Jehan know?”

“No?”

“They’re okay with this?”

Grantaire looked at Enjolras, brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Because... you’re dating?” Enjolras was starting to wonder if Grantaire was really all there today.

Grantaire stumbled. “ _What?_ ”

“Did you somehow not know that? That’s surely a little worrying. I can remember them announcing it.”

“What exactly do you remember them saying?”

“I can’t remember the exact phrasing, but they said something about being romantic with R. You gave them a high five. It wasn’t very couple-ey, but it was very cute.”

Grantaire burst out laughing. “Enjolras, did you listen to literally anything else Jehan was saying that night?”

“Um.”

“You’re a terrible friend.”

“You were wearing a singlet. It was very distracting.”

Grantaire laughed again, wilder and more hysterical. “We’re going to come back to that in a minute, because once again: _what?_ But more importantly, that whole speech was Jehan telling us they were aromantic. They meant ‘capital R’ in its actual, normal sense of being a letter, not my nickname. Like, they’re romantic only in the sense of the Romantic movement.”

Everything shifted, and suddenly made much, much more sense. “Oh my God. I _am_ a terrible friend.”

“Now I know why you’ve been glaring at Jehan so much. I just thought you were being an asshole.”

“I was jealous.”

“I still can’t believe it.” Grantaire laughed once more. “But that’s fucking precious _._ ”

“I’m not precious.” Enjolras frowned.

“ _Precious._ Guys,” he called in a louder voice, taking hold of Enjolras’ hand and tugging him back to Les Amis’ cluster of tables, “you won’t believe what Enjolras just told me.”

Enjolras didn’t hear the end of it for weeks, but it meant he was dating Grantaire, so he couldn’t really be too bothered by it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm willowveild on tumblr, come say hi!!


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